A Time for Giving

by Jean Little

November 27, 1848

  I am run off my feet, but I tell myself that it will be well worth it when the time comes. It is a grand scheme and I am happy to have hatched it.

  December 1, 1848

  It is December already, and I am in a panic. I have the goose. I am confident that I can manage the potato oatcakes, the stuffing for the goose, the kidney soup and the mince pies. It is the cake that worries me. I have never made a Christmas cake, and what Uncle Liam wrote down is only what he can remember. What if he has forgotten something? I know already that some ingredients — the spices, the lemon and the candied fruit — will be a problem. Uncle Liam does not keep them on hand, nor does Mrs. Goodhugh (I snooped in her kitchen).

  Uncle Liam and Mr. Schmidt went to town, and I went with them to ask at the store about the things I need. The spices are very dear, and some are not available at all. The shopkeeper’s wife, sensing my disappointment, asked me what I wanted them for. As I was telling her, Miss Cantrell swept into the store. She nodded to the shopkeeper’s wife but ignored me, even though her eyes met mine. Perhaps she is still angry about the goose. Or, more likely, she thinks me beneath her. She went directly to collect the post. She swept out again a few minutes later, pausing only to collect a package from the shopkeeper’s wife. Her hands were quite full, but she refused to let anyone help her. I confess that I was envious of the envelopes in her hand. I wish there was someone to write to me.

  I left the store with only currants and citrons, the citrons from the shopkeeper’s wife’s own pantry. The spices I need were not to be had. This was my first setback.

  As I left, Miss Cantrell’s sleigh passed me. She sat beside the driver — a man who works for her brother — her back as stiff as a board and her gaze steadfastly ahead. Only after she passed did I spot a letter lying in the road outside the store. It was addressed to her and it was from England. I called out, but it was too late. I tucked the letter into my pocket.

  December 3, 1848

  The letter to Miss Cantrell has been burning a hole in my pocket, so I took it to her today, even though I have so much to do for Uncle Liam.

  Captain Cantrell has a fine house. It consists of two storeys, has large windows and is painted white with black trim. It is surrounded by fields and orchards. Captain Cantrell raises horses for sale. He is also an avid hunter. I have never met him.

  I hesitated when I reached the veranda. Miss Cantrell has been nothing but unpleasant or aloof. Still, I have something of hers and must return it.

  Miss Cantrell herself answered the door. She is even taller than I, and stared down her nose at me. She did not say a word, but waited for me to speak. When I produced her letter from my pocket and explained how it had come into my possession, she snatched it from me. Tears appeared in her eyes as she inspected it. Still she said nothing, so I turned to go. To my surprise, she asked me to come inside.

  December 6, 1848

  This is the first chance I have had to sit down and write. Today I went back to Miss Cantrell’s, at her invitation. I can hardly believe it. Here is how it came about.

  When I gave her the letter, her hand shook and she seemed eager to open it. But instead she slipped it into a pocket. She thanked me for coming out of my way. When I said that I knew the letter was important, she looked surprised and asked who had told me. No one, I said, but all letters are important, aren’t they? She said she supposed that was true.

  She led me to her kitchen. It was large and well stocked, with dried herbs hanging over the fireplace, and little boxes, neatly labelled, on a small shelf nearby. When I stepped closer, I saw that she had nutmeg and cinnamon and allspice. I groped in my pocket for Uncle Liam’s jottings and compared the ingredients he remembered to what was in the boxes. Miss Cantrell had everything I needed!

  When I turned around, Miss Cantrell was staring at me as if I had grown two heads. “Whatever are you doing?” she asked. She was astonished to discover that I can read, and asked to see what was on the papers. Then she wanted an explanation. When I told her, she looked wordlessly at me. The silence was so awkward that I filled it by telling her my plan. I also told her about the goose. She gave me tea with bread and butter and asked me about my cooking skills. I had to admit that I had never made most of the dishes before. As she questioned me, I couldn’t help admiring her ring. When I told her so, she did the oddest thing — she slipped her hand under the table.

  December 7, 1848

  You could knock me down with a goose feather. Miss Cantrell came calling this morning after Uncle Liam left for Mr. Schmidt’s. Uncle Liam is worried what will become of the poor man if his shelter is not completed soon.

  Astonished as I was to see Miss Cantrell, I did not forget my manners. I invited her in. She immediately began to empty the basket she carried over her arm, explaining that Christmas cake must be made well ahead of time so that its flavour would be perfect come Christmas Day. She listed everything she would need, and the next thing I knew, we were making the cake together. She muttered to herself about some elements of the recipe. It seems that Gran’s Christmas cake is not an English Christmas cake. I held my tongue. If Gran had been anything like Grandda, she would sooner have cut off both her hands than make anything English.

  December 10, 1848

  My cake is made and set aside to age, as Miss Cantrell says, and neither Uncle Liam nor Michael are any the wiser. This morning I am going to see Miss Cantrell again. She insists on teaching me how to prepare stuffed goose with port sauce (she has promised me some of her brother’s port) and mince pies. She says I am on my own for the rest of the menu — potato oatcakes and kidney soup — as she has never made them.

  December 11, 1848

  Miss Cantrell is not Miss Cantrell at all! She was, once upon a time — before tragedy struck. When she was only a year older than I am now, she married a soldier, the youngest son of a well-to-do family. Her ring is a wedding ring! He was killed in battle, leaving her with a daughter. She allowed herself to be persuaded that the baby should be raised by his family, who could offer the child much more than a poor soldier’s widow could.

  Miss Cantrell saw her daughter only occasionally over the years, and then the poor young woman died in childbirth. The letter I delivered was from Miss Cantrell’s granddaughter, Lucy. Miss Cantrell has seen her only once. Now Lucy is getting married, and Miss Cantrell is beside herself, as she has nothing special enough for a wedding present.

  She divulged all of this to me quite suddenly after I told her how I had come to this country. Then she pulled herself up straight, got on with her cookery lesson, and didn’t mention her granddaughter again. I feel sad for her.

  December 15, 1848

  We have had only an inch or two of snow until today. But this morning I awoke to a carpet of white outside the door and a sky filled with lacy flakes falling from an ash-grey sky. It snowed all day.

  December 16, 1848

  It is still snowing. Uncle Liam and Michael went to check on Mr. Schmidt. They came back after dark to report that his small house is cozy enough, but that he is worried about his family. They should have arrived well before now, but he has had no word of them.

  December 20, 1848

  Captain Cantrell has been called away and Miss Cantrell is alone — even her hired girl has been given time off to visit her family. I know this because she stopped by to visit Mrs. Goodhugh. When I had a moment alone, I invited Miss Cantrell to Christmas dinner at Uncle Liam’s. It seems only right, as she has been such a help in my preparations. She declined.

  I took my goose home with Tom’s help. It is as fat as can be.

  December 23, 1848

  I had to enlist Michael to make my plan work. It was his job to keep Uncle Liam out in the workshop while I made the mince pies and prepared the stuffing for the goose. It was also his job to wring the goose’s neck. Uncle Liam sniffed the air when he came inside, but did not say a word.

  December 25, 1848

  The jig is up, as I knew it would be sooner
or later. I got up extra early to start roasting the goose and to prepare the soup. When Uncle Liam awoke and came to get his breakfast, he saw the goose and sniffed the soup. I have never seen him smile so broadly. Without a word, he kissed me on the top of the head.

  Everyone was in good spirits all day, and the house was fragrant with good food — the goose crackling, the soup simmering, the oatcakes baking and the pie and Christmas cake set out. The house was snug, and the snow stopped falling, although it was deep on the ground. Michael kept trying to steal little bits of oatcake and insisted on sampling the kidney soup, which he declared to be the best soup he had ever tasted. We were about to sit down to our feast when someone knocked at the door.

  Six snow-covered people, a woman and five children, shivered in the cold air. They were Mr. Schmidt’s long-awaited family! None of them spoke English. I thought, ungenerously, that my family dinner would be ruined because Uncle Liam would insist on taking them to Mr. Schmidt. But that is not what happened. Uncle Liam welcomed them as best he could without their language and seemed pleased to see them. Soon I understood why. He had invited Mr. Schmidt to have Christmas with us because he was all alone in this new place. When he arrived, all the Schmidts threw themselves into his arms and there was much merriment and a few tears.

  Not five minutes later, we heard bells. A sleigh pulled up and someone got down. It was Miss Cantrell. She seemed embarrassed when she told Uncle Liam she had been invited to dinner. But once inside, she rolled up her sleeves and helped me with the goose. I noticed that her ring was missing. When she saw me looking at her now-naked finger, she smiled and said that, thanks to me, she had decided on the perfect wedding gift for her granddaughter. It would make the journey to England with a trusted friend.

  Dinner was a noisy affair. Everyone stuffed themselves. The Schmidts sang Christmas songs in German. Miss Cantrell joined in — seems she knows enough German to make herself understood! I found myself missing Ma and Da and little Patrick and Grandda so much that I thought my heart would burst from all the sadness in it. But Ma always said that we must count our blessings, not our losses. My blessings are this: I have a new family in Uncle Liam and Michael. I have new neighbours in the Schmidts. And the best Christmas surprise of all: I have a new friend in Miss Cantrell.

  About the Authors

  SUSAN AIHOSHI is a sansei or third-generation Japanese Canadian. Her parents and grandparents were part of the forced evacuation of people of Japanese ancestry from B.C.’s west coast during World War II. As a child, she often heard stories of the hardships her family faced in the internment camps.

  KARLEEN BRADFORD has written more than twenty books for young people, most of them novels, from historical fiction such as her acclaimed Crusades trilogy, to contemporary and fantasy. She spent many years living in Ottawa, the setting for this story.

  SARAH ELLIS, a former children’s librarian, has novels, junior novels and picture books to her credit, as well as a list of awards ranging from the Governor General’s Award to the Vicky Metcalf Award for Body of Work. She reviews children’s books for major journals, and has served as a writer-in-residence at the Osborne Collection of Early Children’s Books.

  BARBARA HAWORTH-ATTARD is a Governor-General’s Award nominee and the author of thirteen novels ranging from contemporary to historical fiction to the supernatural. She also writes short stories for anthologies and magazines. Whenever Barbara’s not writing, she will most likely be reading, quilting or tatting snowflakes.

  JEAN LITTLE has published novels, picture books and two biographies — more than fifty books — including the bestselling From Anna and Orphan at My Door. Jean, who is blind, works with a talking computer when she’s writing. One of her two stories in this anthology was inspired by the childhood experience of a relative who sailed from Ireland on a coffin ship and arrived in Canada as an orphan.

  CAROL MATAS has written contemporary, fantasy and mystery novels, but is best known for her award-winning historical fiction about the Holocaust and the Resistance during World War II. One of Carol’s key interests is drama, a motif which often crops up in her writing.

  NORAH MCCLINTOCK is a prolific writer of award-winning mystery and crime novels, including the Chloe and Levesque, Mike and Riel, and Robyn Hunter series, but she has always had a keen interest in history and genealogy. She has served as an interpreter at Spadina House in Toronto.

  JANET MCNAUGHTON has lived much of her adult life in St. John’s, close to the neighbourhood that burned down in the Great Fire of 1892. She is an avid reader and researcher, and when she’s not working on her own novels — many of them award winners such as To Dance at the Palais Royale and Make or Break Spring — she teaches creative writing in schools in St. John’s.

  RUBY SLIPPERJACK learned traditional Ojibwe stories and crafts from her family. She attended Shingwauk Residential School in Sault Ste. Marie for a year, and later, high school in Thunder Bay. She has written five novels for middle-grade and teen readers, many based on her own experiences. Ruby is a faculty member in the Department of Indigenous Learning at Lakehead University. Her Dear Canada novel featuring Violet (Pynut) Pesheens will be published in 2016.

  While the events described and some of the characters in this book may be based on actual historical events and real people, the characters are fictional people, created by the authors, and their diaries are works of fiction.

  www.scholastic.ca

  Introduction copyright © 2015 by Scholastic Canada Ltd. All rights reserved.

  The stories in this book are the copyrighted property of their respective authors. All rights reserved.

  “Dear Sachi” copyright © 2015 by Susan Aihoshi.

  “A Candle for Christmas” copyright © 2015 by Karleen Bradford.

  “The Angel of Citadel Hill” copyright © 2015 by Sarah Ellis.

  “Snowflakes for Christmas” copyright © 2015 by Barbara Haworth-Attard.

  “The Real Blessings” and “The Rescuers” copyright © 2015 by Jean Little.

  “The Light and the Dark” copyright © 2015 by Carol Matas.

  “A Proper Christmas Feast” copyright © 2015 by Norah McClintock.

  “Raffle Mania” copyright © 2015 by Janet McNaughton.

  “Winter with Grandma” copyright © 2015 by Ruby Slipperjack.

  Cover photos: background: © Anelina/Shutterstock, Inc.; main: © KPG_Payless/Shutterstock, Inc.

  Interior cameos by Norman Lanting © 2015 by Scholastic Canada Ltd. All rights reserved.

  “The Angel of Citadel Hill”: lines from “Jabberwocky” from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There by Lewis Carroll, 1872.

  “The Angel of Citadel Hill”: lines from “Angels From the Realms of Glory” by James Montgomery, 1816.

  “The Rescuers” cameo reference for Jane Browning: Courtesy of Joyce Zweig and Monica Ziegelman.

  “Winter with Grandma” cameo reference for Violet (Pynut) Pesheens: Courtesy of Ruby Slipperjack.

  Published by Scholastic Canada Ltd.

  SCHOLASTIC and DEAR CANADA and logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan–American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read this e-book on-screen. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Scholastic Canada Ltd., 604 King Street West, Toronto, Ontario M5V 1E1, Canada.

  ISBN: 978-1-4431-3374-6

  First eBook edition: September 2015

  Also Available

  To read more about the characters featured in these stories check out these other great books in the Dear Canada series.

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  A Sea of Sorrows, The Typhus Epidemic Diary of Johanna Leary by Norah McClintock

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